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Princess Bubblegum, representing the Candy Kingdom at the Grand Meeting of Ooo Royalty, stood by the buffet table with a glass of punch in her hand and half an ear listening to the story being told by a particularly gregarious Wild Berry Princess. It was something about an ex-boyfriend and a wolf, or maybe a bear, or just part bear -- honestly, Bonnibel hadn't been paying attention to a word of the story, but if she had learned anything during her years as princess, it was how to appear engrossed in a conversation when she had completely and totally checked out.
Her mind wandered to the experiment she was in the middle of working on: a top secret creation, which would, she hoped, serve as an interim to the throne if she ever found herself temporarily incapacitated. She was nearly ready to conduct the final portion and, with any luck, give the creature a test drive. But her work had been interrupted by this very event, and as tempted as she was to send someone in her place or ask Peppermint Butler to deliver a message of a regrettable illness, she knew that decisions were made at these meetings that she would want to have a say in, and the Council of Ooo Royalty made it impossible to interject any concerns or suggestions without a physical presence. So, there she stood, punch in hand, being talked at by a gay baby who was very sweet but just not in it for the science.
"Can you believe he said that?" Wild Berry Princess shrieked, and the sheer volume of the statement pulled Bonnibel back to the conversation.
"How horrible," she replied, staring out into the regal crowd. Wild Berry Princess seemed satisfied with that response and gave her a hug, departing to join Lumpy Space Princess and Slime Princess, who were in a distant corner talking to a visibly nervous Duke of Nuts.
"Great party, huh?" The voice came from behind her and it didn't take even a glance over her shoulder for the princess to know who it was.
"Marceline," Bonnibel sighed, shifting her weight and taking a sip of her punch. She felt the vampire at her back and stepped forward, the chill of Marceline's natural body temperature causing goosebumps to form on her bare pink shoulders. "I'm surprised you stuck around this long." Marceline circled around and stood before her, leaning against the table and sliding her forked tongue over her lips.
"Yeah, well, this isn't usually my scene," she replied. She plucked a raspberry from a bowl on the table and pierced it with her fang. Bonnibel watched as the color slipped from the fruit and Marceline tossed it, limp and grey, onto the floor. The princess bent to pick up the discarded fruit and placed it on the table with a huff.
"You are so rude sometimes," she said, and Marceline laughed, the sound ringing over the chatter of the other royals. Some glanced over with shadowed eyes and muttered undoubtedly unkind things about the Queen of the Vampires to themselves or their companions. For a moment, Bonnibel tensed, wondering what they were saying about her as she conversed with the distasteful queen. But she quickly shook that aside, congratulating herself for being so devoted to diplomacy that she was consorting with the most outcast of Ooo's monarchs. "So, what's keeping you here this time?" Marceline picked up an apple and tossed it from hand to hand.
"Just some pleasant company," she said with a grin, and as Bonnibel caught the gleam in her eye, she felt the heat in her pink cheeks. Marceline's grin widened and she flashed the inside of her jacket, revealing a silver flask in the pocket. The heat quickly spread and intensified, partially in shock at the flask and partially in embarassment at the thought that she might be the company in question. "You want some?" Bonnibel instinctively put a hand over the top of her cup, as if the booze would try to make its way in on its own.
"Marceline!" the princess hissed quietly. "Is that alcohol?" Marceline chuckled and closed her jacket, draining the apple and placing its shriveled husk daintily on the table.
"It sure ain't fruit punch, Princess," she replied, and with one swift motion she took the cup from Bonnibel's hand, tipping it back to her lips and emptying it in one gulp. The princess balled her hands into fists and felt like her skin might melt off her face. She glanced around and thanked Glob that nobody else in the room seemed to be paying attention, having been distracted only momentarily by Marceline's outburst. When she glanced back, Marceline had come closer, and Bonnibel backed up a step.
"What is the matter with you?" the princess demanded in a hushed tone. "This is a place of decorum! We are all here to discuss matters of important business, matters which concern you and your people and your kingdom, and not only do you show up late and never listen and put your feet up on the conference table, but you bring booze?" With each word, Marceline came closer and soon the princess was backed up against the wall, tucked into a corner and hidden behind a tall decorative plant. Marceline stepped close enough that Bonnibel could smell the booze on her breath.
"I made it myself," she said. "I thought you'd be proud." The princess made a big show of turning her face and scrunching it into a disgusted wrinkle.
"You smell horrible," Bonnibel snarled and Marceline chuckled, a low, throaty noise that delivered the scent to the princess's nose once again, this time with a hint of the fruit she'd consumed moments earlier. It was intoxicating, but Bonnibel forced her frown to deepen.
"You're so cute," the vampire purred and something hot struck Bonnibel's spine and moved into her stomach at Marceline's words. She swallowed a lump that formed in her throat and felt herself beginning to perspire. Marceline put one hand on the wall beside Bonnibel's head and leaned forward. Licking her lips again, she brought her face close enough that her nose bumped against the princess's and the heat in Bonnibel's core flared, raging into a bonfire that sunk lower and lower in her body as they stood in silence. One corner of Marceline's mouth curled into a lopsided grin. "We should totally make out," she murmured.
With those five simple words, she doused the flames that settled in the pit of Bonnibel's belly. Whatever spell Marceline had managed to put the princess under, with her half-lidded eyes and boozy berry breath, shattered with her distastefully phrased admission of desire. Bonnibel scoffed and placed a finger against the vampire's chest, pushing her backward and slipping out from under her arm. "Go home, Marceline," she said over her shoulder, but when she felt a heavy gaze on her back, she couldn't help the swing of her hips as she sauntered away. She'd pay for it next time, but maybe, just maybe, she'd come prepared with some tricks of her own.